Chapter IV:
First Strikes

Her feet barely made a whisper as she launched herself toward the
target.

She swung in a single motion that carried her straight past without
even disturbing the sleeves of her kimono.

A single brief flash of light was all that marked its passage.

So quick was the strike that her blade seemed to never leave the
sheath. The ‘clink‘ as the hilt slid back down was the only
thing that dispelled this illusion.

And then it was over.

The entire attack routine had taken barely four seconds.

Nodoka didn't need to look back at the practice dummy to know her
Ryu Tsui Sen had struck cleanly, though there would be no visible
mark on the target. If anyone were to examine her sword, they would
have noticed that it was a sakabatou (reversed edge).

As the 19th inheritor, her skill with the family blade was nearly
flawless.

Nearly.

As much as it pained her to admit it, she knew instinctively that
there was still something missing from her technique.

It was the same stumbling block that had prevented her father and
his father before him from ever truly mastering the Way of the Heavenly
Sword. The secret succession technique: "Ama Kakeru Ryu No
Hirameki", which her great-great-grandfather had never passed
on to the inheritors of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.

The bishonen finished the latest round of orders in record time.
Business was always good around the high schools; the local lunch
lines were places where angels feared to tread.

"Wow! This is the best okonomiyaki I've ever had!"

With a nod and a smile to acknowledge the compliment, the ponytailed
cook deftly flipped another sizzling piece onto the customer's plate.
"Thanks, Sugar."

She almost had enough money saved up to continue her quest once
again.

All she had to do was be patient.

{No matter how long it takes, I'll track those worthless Saotomes
down.}

Ukyo was good at waiting.

For nearly ten years, she had been preparing herself for the day
when she would finally get her hands on the thieving Saotomes. Her
hunger for vengeance had only grown sharper with the passage of
time. Each hour that her retribution was put off only served to
fuel the merciless flames smoldering inside of her shattered soul.

Revenge. It was now the single driving force of her life. All of
her thoughts, all of her energy was focused on avenging the loss
of her family's honor.

She wasn't a woman anymore. Not since she had turned her back on
anything having to do with being feminine. Nor was she a man, despite
her best efforts to fit into that role. She could dress like them
and she could talk like them, but she would never truly be one of
them.

Ukyo was a misfit in either world.

And it was all their fault.

Genma and Ranma would both pay for their crimes. There was no possible
excuse for what they'd done. They'd tricked her once, but now she
knew exactly what the honeyed lies of a thief were good for.

Absolutely nothing.

Just like the old tales about the family battle spatula being made
from the remains of a gigantic horse-killer sword that her great-great-grandfather
was supposed to have carried around a long time ago.

Utter nonsense.

As mansions went, this one wasn't the finest, nor was it even remotely
friendly in appearance. Then again, neither were its inhabitants.

Tatewaki Kuno knelt before his family's elegant ancestral shrine.
A gleaming katana was placed in the front: the Kuno family sword.
Engraved on its handle in gold kanji was the Kuno family motto.

Over five hundred heavy warships battered away at each other as
thousands of individual dogfights took place between them. So small
compared to these behemoths were they, that the only visible sign
of them was the intermittent displays of red laser fire and orange
plasma bursts along with the occasional brief white flash as a volley
of missiles, an individual fighter or (as was more often the case)
both at once exploded in the cruel void between the stars.

Among these dueling Titans, a familiar shape shuddered as it was
engulfed in explosion after explosion.

"Damage Report!" Commander Ayla roared as the acrid smell
of overloaded circuitry filled the bridge beyond the air recycler’s
ability to handle.

Cursing slightly at a sparking panel that had blown out from the
last hit, Sammy hit a few keys and read off from the readout that
popped up. "Forward Shields down to 55%. Starboard Quad Cannon
are offline…"

A few of the red lights on her display exploded, sending hot bits
in all directions. Despite this she went on, the deadly projectiles
bouncing off her armor's protective faceplate.

"…Main Guns still down. Auxiliary power has been temporarily
knocked out. Engineering reports that it’ll take at least ten minutes
to get back."

*ZZZZT*

The small electrical blaze that broke out was quickly extinguished
by a thick covering of white retardant foam from the ship’s fire
prevention system.

"The rest of our shields are holding, barely."

Another shudder passed through the hull as four Imperial Blood
Furies resumed pounding on the Untamed Stallion’s weakening defensive
energy field. One on one, the corvette’s formidable weaponry was
normally capable of dispatching these destroyers with minimal difficulty.

But four of them ganging up on her at once, while the main guns
were still inoperable, left the ship desperately fighting for her
life.

"Are our primary batteries ready to fire?"

"Aye, Commander! Missile bays are standing by as well."

"Target the lead destroyer’s weakest facing shield and concentrate
all fire on it. I want the secondary batteries to hit it as well."

"Yes, Ma’am! Shall I launch missiles?"

"Not yet. Beams only."

"Understood."

"Fire!"

An intense swarm of blue green lights marked the path of medium
laser cannon that lashed out from the Rebel ship against her opponent
in a dazzling display of destruction. It was followed by a scattering
of light particle beams and heavy plasma blasts from the secondary
batteries.

The scimitar-shaped vessel's port shield flared up for a moment
before going down in a fiery pyrotechnic display. Several of the
lasers slipped past to gouge deeply into the enemy ship’s blast-scored
armor. While not destroyed, that side was now badly weakened and
open to further attack.

No fool, the enemy captain immediately started to rotate his vessel,
to present a side with a active shield still up toward the Rebel
ship while it licked its wounds. The other three warships continued
to pour on the fire, ignoring their companion’s plight in hopes
of profiting from his loss. The Untamed Stallion was nimble enough
to dodge some of the incoming attacks, but not all of them. The
mighty starship trembled as its shields finally buckled and beams
of destructive energy began to tear into the heavily armored hull.

"Commander!?" Tania looked worried, even their reinforced
armor couldn’t take this kind of punishment for long.

"Stand by with Proton Torpedoes." The transformed Dragon’s
jade eyes seemed to be searching for something on the viewscreen.
Her hand came up and waited patiently for the sign.

A large mushroom fireball bloomed forth from the unshielded side
of the Imperial ship that had been wounded earlier. Smaller chain
reactions went off as the antimatter containment fields for the
main power reactor failed. Particles with opposite charges came
in contact with each other…

Another small star lit the night sky of Ristmoth.

Ayla smiled grimly. The twins always did have a flair for the dramatic.

{One down, three to go.}

Two dark arrow-shaped fighters zoomed above and below the expanding
cloud of atomized particles. The familiar silhouettes of the Untamed
Stallion’s Katana Starfighters were a welcome sight to the crew.

The radio crackled as the self-proclaimed "Dirty Pair’s"
excited banter filled the bridge.

"Good shot, Sis!"

"Now it’s your turn to teach them the true terror of the Lovely
Angels!"

The Commander sweatdropped. Trust the Captain to have come up with
such a bad nickname that just stuck to the resident ace pilots and
certified maniacs. She cursed the moron who had told him about the
mythical "Kei" and "Yuri", the most feared legends
in all the Multiverse. Even the Gods didn't dare to utter those
names aloud, for fear that the myths might actually turn out to
be real.

Though it did seem to be appropriate for Akiko and Yukio,
especially considering how much damage they normally caused in a
fight.

Naturally the Kreeghor did what most sane people do when faced
with a pair of crazy Turbojockies in their preferred vehicles of
choice.

They panicked.

Any sense of formation disappeared as each ship tried to individually
bring their armaments to bear on this new and far more immediate
threat. The Imperial Forces tended to favor obedience over initiative
or competency; this type of unexpected situation caught them with
their tactical pants down. Their normal escort of power armors that
was supposed to protect them from dangers like this had been shot
to pieces earlier by the exceptional gunners aboard the Untamed
Stallion.

The Imps were in trouble. And they knew it.

Yukio laughed out loud as she teasingly wove through the frantic
hailstorm of defensive fire from her target and released two of
her cruise missiles from her fighter’s external pylons as she closed
to point-blank range.

The speed of the warheads was such that they crossed the distance,
slammed into the second Destroyer’s shields and detonated in less
then a second. Part of the blast reached out to lick at the Katana’s
shields, but the fighter’s barrier held as the Turbojocky maneuvered
past to go after the next ship. The same could not be said for the
Blood Fury; its weakened defensive energy field was no match for
the full destructive fury of the antimatter devices. Although the
hull was mostly unscathed, the vessel was now ripe for the plucking
without her shields.

Ayla had been counting on that. Her eyes narrowed vengefully.

"Missiles… FIRE!!"

The Stallion’s six long-range launchers quickly spat out a rapid-fire
spread of glowing projectiles that homed in on the stricken enemy
vessel.

Twenty-four heavy proton torpedoes smashed into the hull of the
Imperial ship one after another, and exploded in an ever-expanding
chain of red fireballs. Unfortunate crewmembers caught in the heart
of the blasts were dead before they ever realized it. Individual
decks inside the destroyer blew apart, scattering razor sharp shards
of metal and wiring that caused even more havoc as each explosion
ripped deeper and deeper into the bowels of the doomed ship.

The stress on its spine finally proved too much as the combined
force from inertia and vibrations from the secondary explosions
of the torpedo strike combined to literally rip the destroyer in
two. The forward half immediately went dark as its power conduits
were severed from the engines and started to drift.

Eventually the wreck would be caught in Moth’s gravity well and
become a swarm of shooting stars burning up in the planet’s atmosphere.

The remaining Blood Furies began to run as the Twin’s last batch
of missiles knocked out their facing shields. Their gunners prevented
the starfighters from finishing the job, as both turned to prevent
the Stallion from getting a clear target.

Just in time to give the two Black Eagle Fighters coming in from
behind a clean shot. While they carried only two anti-ship warheads
apiece, against these relatively light warships two was more then
enough.

An audible sigh of relief passed across the bridge as the last
two destroyers joined their brothers in the bleak darkness of the
Void. That had been too close for comfort; another few minutes and
they might not have made it. It had been a stroke of luck indeed
for their fighters to have been in the enemy’s blind spot, the emissions
from their sublight engines masking the profiles of state of the
art Katanas long enough for them to get close enough so that no
point defense system could possibly intercept their deadly cargo
in time.

The Untamed Stallion had already engaged and destroyed six enemy
ships and dozens of enemy fighters with minimal difficulty early
in the battle. But then their luck had turned and the Escort Carrier
that they’d managed to sneak up on and cripple got off a distress
call before they could kill it. Though the risk had been high, the
crew couldn’t resist taking out an enemy carrier, even if it was
only a light version.

The Maimers had closed in a entrapment formation to engage the
corvette before the Untamed Stallion could engage its stealth systems
and break away, forcing the ship to abandon her normal Hit and Fade
tactics that made her so many times more deadly then her size would
indicate, and revert back to ‘classic’ space warfare.

It had been a close call. But they were still alive and their attackers
were now sucking vacuum.

That was the good news.

Then Sammy gave them the bad news.

"That last barrage got us good. We’re not going to be able
to cloak again without a long stay at a dry-dock."

"Damn."

"Hornet and Falcon are coming back to reload, the Twins are
standing by in holding pattern. What are your orders, Ma’am?"

"Tania, patch us through to the tactical network."

"Aye, Commander."

Almost immediately after the delicate communications officer opened
the channel, the chaos of the ongoing battle filled the bridge.

Wincing in apology, Tania turned the volume down, though not before
the rest of the officers felt their ears ringing slightly from the
blaring roar of the Alliance’s battle transmissions. Then one particular
message caught everyone’s attention.

If they lost their only Super Dreadnought along with Admiral Iblis,
the Rebel fleet’s coordination would fall apart and they’d be pounded
to bits against the crushing weight of the Imperial blockade line.

"You heard them, people. MOVE!"

They didn’t need to be told twice.

No love was lost between the Imperial Navy and the Rebel Fleet.
The brutal atrocities of the Empire’s finest had earned them the
undying hatred of the Freedom Fighters, and the stubbornness of
a few planets that refused to bow down to the military might of
the Kreeghor threatened the Trans-galactic Juggernaught’s very way
of life. So it was with savage fury that these bitterest of enemies
smashed into each other with weapons of matter and energy. Kamikaze
attempts from both sides were not uncommon, as helpless damaged
vessels tried to take a few more of the enemy with them into oblivion.

The heaviest concentration of fighting had gradually shifted to
engulf the Alliance’s flagship. While initially the HopeBringer’s
heavy firepower had managed to hold the upper hand for the first
few minutes of the engagement, as more and more enemy ships engaged
the gigantic warship and her escorts, gradually the sheer numbers
began to take their toll.

One by one, the protecting cluster of battleships and cruisers
that made up her taskforce had been eliminated, leaving the symbol
of the Free Worlds alone and in big trouble. Over thirty Kreeghor
Smashers and Berserkers had the lone Doombringer class superdreadnought
pinned down now. A smaller group of twenty-four Ripper gunships
and Deathclaw battlecruisers, backed by a full twelve squadrons
of Fang interceptors, blocked all attempts by the Alliance to relieve
their beleaguered flagship— as well as making it impossible
for the HopeBringer to retreat. Any vessel big enough to be of aid
could never slip past all of the watching sensors, and would be
engaged by the capital ships, while fighters didn’t have enough
firepower on their own to make a difference and would be picked
off by the interceptors.

Six Rebel battleships were currently at the very fringes of the
life or death drama playing out, held back by the missile volleys
of the Deathclaws and high intensity laser barrages of the oversized
gunships. Their protective escorts of fighters were unable to aid
them, as they had their hands full fighting off the Kreeghor’s elite
pilots.

A gambling man would have bet every penny he had that the Alliance
Dreadnought was doomed. The chances of a rescue attempt getting
through that massed firepower was astronomical, and the likelihood
of it succeeding even less so.

But the Untamed Stallion had a nasty habit of beating the odds.

-Into the Breach

"Black Eagles are reloaded and ready to go. Just give them
the word, Commander."

"Auxiliary power reestablished. Reaper Turret back online."

"My board is green; looks like they haven’t seen us yet."

"Tactical situation analysis coming in. Punching it up now."

"Engineering here, we've almost locked down the auxiliary
power conduit on Deck 4. Give me another couple of minutes, and
we should be have the main guns up and running again."

With a smooth efficiency, they prepared to carry out what most
people would consider a suicide mission.

For this crew, it was just another job they had to do.

"All right people. Time to earn our princely paychecks again."

-There's a Stick in Your Eye

"He's late."

"Take it easy, Murray. The Alliance is paying us enough to
wait for him."

"I still don't like it, Captain."

The first mate went back to cradling his power halberd. Over 3
meters tall, the Seljuk bore an uncanny resemblance to the predatory
dinosaurs that his kind had descended from.

Captain William Borshenko shook his head at his friend's impatience.
His shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes, combined with his
Nordic features, gave him the appearance of a Viking of old. One
of the more notorious Runners of the Three Galaxies, he was also
someone who could be relied on to keep his word.

"Don't worry, this'll be a piece of cake. Just pick up one
agent and their cargo, and drop them off at the nearest Freeworld
base. Simple as that."

"I still think that contract was too good to be true."

"Oh, c'mon. What could possibly go wrong?"

At that exact moment, an out of control hovercycle with two panicking
riders came crashing down.

The bike's underside screeched like an Argalian hyena in labor
as it bounced and skidded right towards them.

"Look out!!"

"Get outta the way!!"

The surprised captain and his first mate dived to either side to
avoid a potentially fatal collision with this duo who were obviously
insane, intoxicated, or both.

Seeing that they weren't going to stop in time, Nicholas finally
hit the emergency ejection system.

The seat, with both Nick and Katrina clinging desperately to it,
blasted straight up as a brief but powerful rocket booster kicked
in. The hovercycle, now totally out of control, continued on for
several hundred meters before smashing right into the side of a
cargo shuttle. Under normal conditions, such a hit would have done
little more then leave a few minor dents in the hull and totally
obliterated the bike.

Unfortunately, this shuttle had been in the middle of refueling.
Even worse, it had an ion drive. Which required large quantities
of (relatively) cheap hydrogen fuel. And the bike rammed
one of the enormous fuel lines head on.

The resulting explosion was seen from as far as a mile away.

-Brave, Suicidal, or just plain Nuts?

They went in hard and fast.

Three interceptors directly in the way died in plasma fireballs,
never even seeing the ship that killed them.

Without her cloaking device to hide them from hostile sensors,
they had to rely on their active ECM systems to blind the enemy's
electronic eyes and ears. It was a long shot, but it was all they
had to work with.

Her own fighters stayed tight against the Stallion's flanks as
she bore down on the blockade at maximum military acceleration,
hiding their weaker radar profiles inside her sensor shadow.

Despite her attempt at stealth, a pair of gunships spotted the
corvette in time to attempt an intercept.

Before they even got into their energy range, the Stallion's Grim
Reaper opened up on them.

At 10 tons, the heavily armored "Reaper" gravity mega-cannon
was the third largest weapon system mounted on the Rebel ship. Its
rate of fire was over 300 rounds per minute. Each shell was composed
of pure tritonium and was no bigger then the average golf ball.
When fired, the kinetic energy imparted to an individual round was
comparable to that of old style atomic weapons.

The volley smashed into the two Rippers like a Hammer of God.

For those aboard the doomed vessels, it was their own little front
seat to Hell.

Shields flared and died, mega-damage alloy screamed and buckled,
and the tiny lives aboard the ships were mercilessly blown out of
existence by the lethal bombardment.

The Untamed Stallion never slowed as she passed the gutted remains
of the Gunships.

She was after bigger game.

-Stick It Where the Sun Don't Shine!

"Borshenko?"

The captain gave the man an odd look. "Speaking. Who the hell
are you two lunatics?"

"Well, they know we're here." She'd hoped that they'd
be able to get closer first, but they had to play the hand that
had been dealt to them. "Engineering, I need those main guns
back up now!"

"Three more minutes!"

Three minutes. Might as well have been an eternity.

Smasher class heavy cruisers had been the standard ships of the
line for the Imperial Navy for almost three hundred years. They
were built to last, and no slouches in the weapons department either.
Only in the last few decades had the Empire begun to replace them
with the new Slayer class battlecruiser, the most infamous example
of which was the Dark Impaler commanded by none other then the Untamed
Stallion's nemesis "Ironclaw" Jarenz. But it would be
centuries before Smashers were fully phased out of Imperial service,
and without her heaviest weapons available, the Rebel corvette's
chances against the even-dozen currently pounding away on the command
ship were grim.

"Enemy Fangs incoming!"

Ayla swore softly as several squadrons of fighters broke off from
the main attack and began to close in on them.

"We're on them, Control." The four fighters that had
been sticking close to the corvette altered course and split into
two pairs to intercept.

"Keep it quick, Meia. We don't have time to tangle it up with
them."

"Roger." The Squadron Leader's cool voice was all business.
"You heard her, ladies. Pick your targets for the first pass
and go, but remember our main targets are the Smashers. Stick around
for an engagement and those Imps will be all over your asses.”

"Dibs on the ones to the left!"

"No fair! You called dibs last time!"

"Cut the chatter! Here they come!!"

Space erupted in light and fury as the Rebel squadron recklessly
dove into the heart of the Imperial formation.

-Among the Living

The transition from semi-consciousness to full awareness was almost
instantaneous.

He awoke to find the pain from his injuries almost entirely gone.
Although still greatly weakened, it seemed that this CosmoKnight
would live to fight another day.

That still didn't stop him from berating himself as he looked up
at the unfamiliar ceiling.

{Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Drizzt would have disowned me as his student
twice over if he'd seen that fiasco. Once for letting them get the
drop on me, the other for not having a backup plan in case my first
one didn't work.}

Carefully Ranma pulled himself up to a sitting position. He winced
as various parts of his body suddenly complained about this movement.
He was alive and mostly in one piece, but obviously his body wasn't
in much better condition then that.

{Where am I?}

Ranma studied the dressings on his shoulder and chest curiously.
He had considerable firsthand experience with this kind of thing,
and could recognize exceptional handiwork when he saw it. Whoever
had bandaged him up had known what they were doing. Surprising,
especially since he was pretty certain that this wasn't a hospital
or a clinic.

A good thing too, as any doctor worthy of the title wouldn't have
taken long to discover several very alarming differences between
his body and that of your average ordinary human being.

Like the fact that no normal syringe on Earth was capable of penetrating
his skin, though there were many witnesses of the feminine gender
who could vouch that it certainly felt human enough.

{What's the last thing I remember?}

Cushioning his head as he fell…

Large, nicely tanned and ever so soft…

{…Breasts?! That can't be right! Can it?}

"Oh! You're awake."

The other voice came as a complete surprise.

{Gah!?}

Ranma turned and found himself staring into the eyes of one of
the most beautiful women he had ever seen. How had she managed to
sneak up on him like that?!

"We were worried for awhile. Your injuries were quite severe."

"Ah…"

For some reason, this woman reminded him of Kasumi. But despite
her incredible beauty, he did not feel the same sharp hunger that
Sailor Pluto had aroused within him. This woman possessed a powerful
sense of presence that literally took his breath away. It was like
being wrapped in a soft down comforter by a cheery fire, warm and
soothing. For some reason he was reminded of his mother.

He was abruptly reminded by her introduction of other, more ancient
codes of conduct. Her rendering of aid had placed him in obligation
to her.

"Ranma. Ranma Saotome."

And he was a man who always repaid his debts.

"I suspect that I owe you my life, Belldandy-dono."(1)
He was surprised when she blushed at the honorific.

"Please, just Belldandy is fine."

"As you wish… Belldandy. I am in your debt."

She shook her head in polite negation. "You don't owe me anything,
Ranma. Being able to save a life is reward enough."

Such gentle honesty was rare, even among those he called friends
and allies. This kind of innate purity helped keep his faith in
humanity and the other ‘civilized’ races alive.

But a promise was a promise was a promise.

"Nevertheless, if there is anything within my power to do
for you, you need only ask." His voice, while still softly
polite, was also solid with honest determination.

Seeing no other recourse, Belldandy accepted with a polite nod.

She was rewarded by a slight relaxation in his features, and the
return of the curiosity in his eyes that she had seen when he first
turned to look at her.

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your suit. It looks broken."

Ranma looked down at himself. {I forgot all about that!}

"Thank you for reminding me, that completely slipped my mind."

He concentrated on his armor.

The dark material flashed and suddenly became a thousand shining
silver motes of light that softly descended all around him and evaporated
before they ever touched the floor.

In its place was revealed the pig-tailed hero, wearing the same
clothes that he'd had on earlier before transforming into his Cosmic
form.

He gave the goddess an innocent look. "Is this better?"

"Oh my, yes."

Not that his attire was out of the way, Ranma's curiosity had returned.
"So what's a nice goddess like you doing in Japan?"

Her face brightened. "Well you see, it all started three years
ago when I visited Keiichi…"

Belldandy started pouring the tea that she had brought into two
cups without ever interrupting her story.

Ranma smiled back as he took one. It smelled wonderful.

He started to make himself as comfortable as he could under the
circumstances. This was probably going to take a little while.

-Where there's smoke…

Their fighters had managed to disrupt most of the Fangs, causing
more confusion in their ranks then actual damage. A few of them
actually managed to make it to the Untamed Stallion, where they
were greeted by a barrage of short range missiles from her launchers
and a mixed assortment of lasers and particle beams from the remaining
armored turrets scattered across the ship's hull.

Fewer still survived the encounter intact, and none of the fleeing
survivors were eager to come to grips with the deadly Rebel ship
any time soon.

That fact did not go unnoticed by the rest of the Imperials. Finally
they realized the threat that was rapidly approaching their positions
and reacted.

The tactical map that was projected onto the main screen showed
numerous electronic yellow triangles circled in blinking red making
their way toward the blue dot representing their ship. Probable
trajectories and assignments of threat priority flashed rapidly
and danced across the screen, as the ship's sensors fed the main
tactical computer a constant stream of updates.

It was only a ranging volley; the distance was still long even
for capital ship missiles. But the total number of warheads launched
was still more then enough for the Stallion's crew to take them
seriously.

"Engage countermeasures!"

Dozens of counter-missiles raced out to engage and destroy the
approaching warheads. Upon reaching a preset distance from the ship,
the larger ones detonated and blossomed into a sea of thermo-nuclear
flame.

Missiles died by the score as they were consumed in the hearts
of miniature suns, others that passed through did so blindly, their
electronic brains fried by EMP. (2)

Smaller counter-missiles went directly for their targets, burning
out their drives to reach short-term acceleration that exceeded
even the full thrust of capital ship missiles.

Their warheads contained only a fraction of the destructive power
that their larger brothers possessed. Yet that was more then enough
to not only destroy the missiles they hit, but also detonate their
much more destructive warheads too. More often then not, the blasts
took out other missiles nearby, resulting in the domino effect of
missile fratricide.

As the remainder of the swarm closed, a hail of railgun rounds
swept out from rapid-firing armored mounts scattered across the
ship, tearing apart anything that got in their way.

The barrage killed more of the warheads, but the harried survivors
stubbornly continued on.

The Stallion's Defense Grid was waiting for them.

Forty-eight computer controlled point defense lasers emitted rods
of solid light, in a dazzling protective blue web of such mathematical
complexity that the effect was as beautiful as it was lethal.

The last warhead died barely fifty meters from the corvette's hull.

And then it was their turn.

The Rebel ship's replying volley was comprised entirely of spoofers
and jammers. Every electronic warfare bird remaining in her arsenal
was launched in a single flight.

The effect was simply devastating.

Imperial targeting systems were flooded with not thousands, but
millions of false targets. Sensor consoles crashed from the
influx of impossible data being fed to them. Missile fire controls
burned out from the sheer power of the ECM being thrown at them.

It bought the Stallion precious time as the enemy scrambled to
bring their systems back online. The rain of missiles being launched
at them died down to scattered individual launches that were easily
picked off by the corvette's anti-missile defenses.

And then over the intercom came the sweetest words that the Commander
had ever heard from the chief engineer.

"Main Guns Operational!"

The nearest cruiser had just begun to turn in order to bring its
devastating Energy Lance to bear on them. One of the great flaws
of earlier Imperial designs were that while powerful, most of their
heavy beam weapons were mounted on fixed positions. This allowed
them to throw a considerable amount of firepower forward, but it
also limited their weapons' arc of fire to a narrow cone in front
of the ship.

Normally this wouldn't have mattered against any ship lighter then
a heavy cruiser, since even factoring in the approaching Rebel ship's
incredible acceleration the Smasher would still be able to complete
its turn and open fire while remaining well outside the range of
the medium laser cannon that comprised her primary batteries.

But this time, arrogance cost the Kreeghor dearly.

On the main screen a blue targeting icon bracketed the Smasher
and went red as it acquired a firing solution.

"Kill that cruiser!!"

-The Lady IS the Tiger

"Hey, Sis, is that guy awake ye— HELLO, NURSE!!"

Urd stared.

She couldn't help it.

She'd thought— er— she'd hoped that their patient
would turn out to be at least easy on the eyes.

Her earlier assumptions had been all wrong.

This guy wasn't cute at all.

He was absolutely Gorgeous!

{I want to make him mine!}

"Oh, Urd, this is Ranma. Ranma, my older sister, Urd."

"Hi."

The CosmoKnight recognized her as the one he'd had to carry around
(which he really hoped she'd forgotten about by now).

Then he noticed that she was just staring at him with a predatory
intensity while scarlet bloomed in her cheeks.

Every person who'd first heard of what the Captain had planned
to do had told him some— or all— of the above.

Even Silvia, who was obsessed with almost every type of technological
gadget imaginable, had told Captain Saotome that he was "Outta
u're bleedin no'ggin to ins'all thee' monstrosities!"

What they had been talking about was the refit of the Untamed Stallion's
main guns. Ranma had ordered the original Beta VII medium laser
cannon pulled out, and had replaced them with a pair of Mark II
Heavy Particle Beam Cannon.

…Super Dreadnought Class weapons whose design had been retired
from active service in every modern fleet of the Three Galaxies
for over six hundred years.

Each cannon was 100 meters long, almost a third the length of the
ship itself. Mounted on two enormous armored structural pylons like
the ends of a giant tuning fork, they were the front of the
ship.

As a result of their size, their firing arc was restricted—
although nowhere near as limited as an Imperial Horn Cannon—
to a 40-degree cone centered on the front of the ship.

And then there were the power requirements.

The energy required to fire these monsters was almost 40% of the
Untamed Stallion's total power output, in addition to what
their own internal generators produced. It also took 27.741 seconds
for the giant capacitors in the cannon to build up the required
charge for each shot, and 1.865 seconds to cool the firing chambers
afterwards so that the blasts wouldn't melt the cannon themselves;
thus limiting their rate of fire to no more then one blast every
30 seconds.

In an age where miniaturization had reduced the average size of
capital ship's energy mounts to two tons or less, and given them
an average firing cycle of 3-7 seconds, they were antiques.

Obsolete pieces of junk that should have been scrapped long ago.

At least to everyone but Captain Saotome.

Because he had recognized the one thing that made up for it all.

For all their flaws, despite all the headaches they brought, the
Mark II's were reputed to be the biggest, nastiest sons of bitches
ever built for a ship of the line. Nothing less then a battlecruiser
had the armor or the shields to survive a direct hit from one of
those cannon, let alone two. Their effective range was also over
ten times that of an Imperial Energy Lance, giving the Stallion
a degree of fire superiority unmatched by any existing light or
medium class warship within the Three Galaxies.

And once again they proved their worth.

The only warning was a hellish white glare that flashed out from
the front of the corvette. Then two super-energized particle streams
raced out from the ship at the speed of light. No sooner had they
left then their preprogrammed vectors collided and merged
into a brilliant wave of pure annihilation.

For a ten-thousandth of a second, the beam connected the two distant
vessels to each other.

Then the Smasher's far side bulged outward and vaporized as the
heavy particle beam passed through and out, eating through force
fields and armor as though they were so much cotton candy. There
were no explosions at first; every solid object directly in the
beam's path had been completely disintegrated.

Atmosphere rushed out through the giant holes in the cruiser's
sides as decompression set in. Omnisteel bulkheads collapsed inwards
like broken eggshells, crushing anything unfortunate enough to get
in the way.

Emergency systems struggled in vain to contain the damage. Pressure
locks slammed shut, but for much of the destruction there simply
wasn't anything left to close, and several decks gave way as the
pressure loss exceeded their structural capacity.

Inside one of those decks was the cruiser's armory, which housed
scores of capital ship missiles.

Captain Kazorh Darkshar of the Imperial Cruiser 'Smite' witnessed
with a mixture of horror and disbelief as his ship's division mate,
'Brawler', blew up in a frenzied orgy of self-destruction. Stored
anti-matter warheads detonated like a chain of dominos inside the
cruiser's guts, each fresh explosion triggering dozens more that
reduced the warship to white-hot plasma in the space of two heartbeats.

{What in the Seven Hells was THAT?! It couldn't have come from
that ship! A corvette isn't supposed to mount that kind of firepower!!}

Darkshar suspected it had turned almost as white as his own had
upon hearing the report. {Emperor's Black Bones!}

There was only one FTL drive in the entire Three Galaxies that
had a binary theta emission.

{The Untamed Stallion! That's the UNTAMED STALLION!!}

He'd had the standard briefing, of course. Every officer in the
Imperial Navy knew about Captain Saotome and his unusual vessel.

An experimental corvette stolen before it could be delivered to
the Empire. Nearly destroyed during the Battle of Belicorn, then
rebuilt to the size of a light cruiser. The drive field used a proto-gravitronic
conversion array that was 35% more efficient then anything either
the Empire or the Consortium currently had, but also leaked trace
amounts of quasi-quantum quarks as a side effect of the mass-energy
conservation transfer.

There had always been numerous rumors floating around in the Empire
for years that the Untamed Stallion carried something extra
in the way of armament. Especially given its kill ratio of destroyers,
and other light warship classes that commonly served as escorts
for the transports and cargo ships that were a pirate's favorite
prey. But due to a decided lack of surviving firsthand witnesses,
that had never been accurately confirmed through official channels.

{Well, now we know for sure… for all the good that it does now!}

The Smite's captain was many things…

But dumb wasn't one of them.

"Pull the ship back! Do it now!!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Smasher angled sharply up and away, desperately putting distance
between itself and the Rebel ship in an attempt to get out of the
reach of its longer-ranged cannon.

The Stallion's ECM bombardment had proved hellishly effective against
their standardized systems, degrading missile fire control to such
an extent that they couldn't achieve the coordination necessary
to saturate the corvette's point defense.

Until they could reestablish their datalinks, the only way they
could currently engage that ship would be from within the Stallion's
energy envelope.

And with that kind of firepower advantage, trying to close to beam
range now would be an act of suicide.

{But once we get our launchers back up, then it'll be their
turn to burn.}

A ship that size couldn't mount more then one or two capital missile
launchers at best, and missile ranges were much longer then that
of even the most powerful energy weapon.

{It managed to get the drop on us, but is still only one ship.
We're going to get hurt, but time is on our side. Once our systems
are back up, we'll be able to throw enough missiles that not even
their defenses will be able to stop them all.}

They weren't beat yet, not by a long shot.

"How long till the Main Guns recharge?" Their desperate
gambit had worked better then Ayla had dared hope.

"Sixteen seconds to go."

They were now almost in range of the HopeBringer and had taken
only one hit so far, in return for their progress.

A lucky warhead fired wildly from one of the Berserkers had been
missed by their defenses. But that had been the only one that got
through, and their shields had held firm against the blast.

But it wouldn't last.

The Commander understood the fundamental weakness of their position.
Although they had managed to disrupt the main group attacking the
Command Ship, whoever was in charge of those cruisers knew what
they were doing.

The Imps were moving outward to englobe the Stallion, reducing
the number of potential targets for the heavy particle beam cannon.
Although more maneuverable then the Smashers, the corvette's current
acceleration reduced its ability to change its heading by any significant
margin.

Once the Imperials got their missiles back, their spread-out formation
would catch the Stallion in a crossfire. That would force them to
divide their point defense, lowering accuracy and volume coverage.

And the next round would be no mere ranging volley.

"Engage the Berserkers with missiles. And if you manage acquire
a torpedo lock on any of those cruisers, take the shot."

"With pleasure!"

The helmswoman's fingers danced across the controls.

Two capital launchers went to constant rapid fire, sending 48 missiles
per minute scorching in on the Imperial war frigates.

At the same time the Stallion's sensors focused on one of the closest
enemy cruisers and began the laborious task of decrypting the energy
frequency of the force field shielding her target.

-A Life for a Life

"So you see, it was all Mara's fault."

Urd continued to devour their guest with her eyes even after she
had finished her story of the earlier events.

"Mara?"

"A Demoness First Class."

Something dangerous flashed in Ranma's eyes, but he gave no other
outward reaction upon hearing that interesting tidbit of information.

"She likes to cause us trouble every now and then. But I truly
believe that she possesses a good heart underneath it all."

Ranma was nothing short of astonished to hear a goddess,
of all people, defending a demon. But looking into Belldandy's eyes,
the Knight found himself starting to understand her.

{She really cares about this Mara. Her words come straight from
her heart.}

And yet…

{I can't let a demoness run loose. She has to be dealt with, one
way or another. The current situation is unstable enough already.
I don't need this to worry about too. Hell and damnation!! Why couldn't
I have gotten a ‘head's up’ from the Forge before getting
into this mess?!!}

Something from his conflicting thoughts must have shown on his
face, because suddenly Belldandy turned toward him with a serious
expression on her face. "You won't hurt her, will you?"

He couldn't meet her gaze.

"Please."

Urd watched with some concern as she saw her younger sister's eyes
start to shimmer. A tearful Belldandy always gave her a panicky
sensation in the pit of her stomach.

It had a similar effect on the CosmoKnight.

With a small sigh of defeat, he conceded.

"As you wish, Belldandy. I won't harm this Mara, you have
my word on it."

"Thank you."

Ranma met her smile with a sheepish look. {Just the hint of tears,
and I fall apart. Damn, I'm pathetic.}

Ishtar was just going to love this when she found out.

Speaking of which, wasn't he forgetting something?

{Uh, oh!}

-Countdown

{We're running out of time.} The numbers scrolled coldly down the
readout of her seat's left arm.

They'd killed two more cruisers so far, with another one so badly
damaged that it was limping away from the engagement.

But that still left eight Smashers, with the fourteen surviving
Berserkers and four regrouped squadrons of Fangs in support.

And the battle computer's best projection gave them only a few
more minutes before the Imps restored their tactical networks. Which
would leave them with the worst of both worlds. Still too far away
to support the flagship, but easy meat for the ships surrounding
them.

"Meia and the others are making their runs."

Ayla turned her head back towards the main screen. {Damn it all!
There has to be something else we can do to keep up the pressure!}

-Departure

"Are you sure that you won't spend the night? It wouldn't
be any trouble at all."

"Yes, we've got plenty of space in my room."

The darkly tanned goddess was starting to make him nervous. Urd's
behavior reminded him far too much of certain brassy crewmembers
from the Untamed Stallion. What was it with women and their weird
obsession with sex, anyway?

"Thanks, but no thank you. I've already imposed enough."

{Not to mention that the Tendos and my father are probably wondering
where the heck I am right now. Hopefully I'll be able to think of
something before I get back.}

Before he left the temple, Ranma pressed a small token into Belldandy's
hands. "If you ever need my help, just call and I'll be there."

The goddess nodded in understanding. "You will always be welcome
here. Please be sure to visit us again."

"Yes, I'd like that. Until next time then." He turned
and walked away from the old temple. In mere moments the young man
disappeared into the darkening streets.

"Make these count, people." Meia and her wing(wo)man
started closing to attack range of their target, weaving in a tight
spiral to avoid anti-fighter fire from their target's gravity rail
guns.

"Roger that."

Yukio took the lead as the Katanas split up to go after their own
individual cruisers. Unlike the Eagles, their fighters were carrying
enough capital missiles to make their own separate attack runs.

The screen of interceptors was already too far out to stop them.
That just left the anti-fighter turrets and mini-missile launchers
to watch out for. It was really a pity, since the twins would have
enjoyed the added challenge.

{Oh, well. We'll make do.}

Giggling like a schoolgirl, the Turbojocky watched the distance
between herself and her target evaporate like smoke as she dived
for the kill.

50 miles.

The twin thrills of speed and the accompanying danger were what
she and her sister lived for. In fact, those had been the only
things they'd used to live for, before being recruited aboard the
Untamed Stallion.

40 miles.

Now the twins had two loves in life. Flying and Ranma.

And since one wasn't available right now, they would make do with
the other until they could get their hands on him again.

30 miles.

A flick of a switch armed the warheads. She was carrying a full
load of FCAMs with heavy antimatter payloads.(3)

The Imps weren't going to enjoy this one bit.

20 miles.

The cruiser was already dead in her sights, but Yukio's Katana
continued to close. She already had an iron-solid lock, but she
wasn't about to give this bastard any chance to intercept.

10 miles.

That meant a zero range launch.

With less then 0.1 seconds for point defense to track, lock on,
and fire, the possibility of stopping her missiles would be "a
snowflake's chance in hell."

5 miles.

The range continued to fall.

{Almost there.}

2 mi—

"Missiles away!"

Four FCAMs belched from the Katana's internal racks and smashed
into the Smasher's shield in the blink of an eye. The explosion
blew through the energy barrier like a sledgehammer striking glass,
but its destruction weakened the blast that actually hit the ship
itself.

Armor slagged and twisted; yet the total damage was minor.

But that was okay.

Because Yukio had a little surprise for them.

"Burn, baby, burn!"

From her weapon pods came four more FCAMs, and this time there
were no shields to stop them.

-There Is No Cow Level

The range had closed enough for the ship's six long-range launchers
to add to the fray.

Dozens of third generation antimatter warheads smashed against
shields and armor as the pitiful point defense of the frigates were
overwhelmed. The Berserkers were missile ships, with powerful launchers
but relatively few other weapons.

One died. Then another.

But it still wasn't enough.

The fighters had turned three more cruisers into air-bleeding wrecks,
but the interceptors had closed up behind them and were now directly
between them and the corvette. Tied up in dogfights, Meia and the
others wouldn't get back in time to make any difference.

And the Berserkers were starting to shoot back.

They still couldn't coordinate their attacks, but each frigate
could put out four twenty-missile volleys a minute. With a dozen
of them still operational, the corvette's anti-missile defenses
worked overtime to keep the valiant vessel alive. Only the fact
that the Imps couldn't synchronize their fire together gave the
Stallion any chance at all.

And despite their best efforts, a few still managed to get through.

They died against the shields, but each hit weakened the corvette's
energy barrier a little more.

The other remaining cruisers and their escorts were already turning
their launchers toward the corvette. Darkshar settled back into
his command chair and prepared to watch the Rebel ship die.

"Fi—"

"Enemy missiles incoming!!"

"WHAT?!"

"Look at those birds go!!"

The whoop of victory came from the communications officer, but
just this once Ayla decided to let it slide in light of the reason
for her behavior.

The entire bridge crews’ eyes were fixed on the main screen, where
over eighty fighters led the way for three battleships and a pair
of starcruisers.

The outnumbered Fangs began to flee, but the Stallion's fighters
now took a savage toll on the Imps as they turned to run.

Even as the crew watched, the comm crackled and a voice from the
approaching strike force started coming over the speakers. "This
is Captain Dominic of the Tempest. Thanks for punching us a hole,
Stallion. But those cruisers seem to have you a bit outnumbered.
Break off; you've done your job. Now let us do ours."

The starcruisers' heavy missile batteries pounded relentlessly
on the Smashers while the battleships turned their own mixed assortment
of missile and energy batteries on the Berserkers.

"You heard him, people. Time to move it or lose it!"

The Stallion veered sharply to the left, putting distance between
itself and the carnage taking place. Her main guns took out another
Berserker as she swerved, and then it was the HopeBringer’s turn.

The superdreadnought used its brief reprieve to go back on the
offensive, pouring a hurricane of fire from its surviving weapon
systems into the surrounding enemy vessels, and ship after ship
blew up. Even as they died, the flagship's main engines began moving
her clear of the Imperial blockade.

"This is Admiral Iblis. Good work, Stallion."

"Thank you, Admiral." The commander suspected that her
satisfied smile was being duplicated all over the ship.

{We did it!}

"Now prepare to retreat."

"Retreat?!" Startled, Ayla turned back toward the main
screen and punched in a request for an update on the battle. She
had been so busy worrying about how they were going help the flagship
that she hadn't been paying much attention to the status of the
rest of the Rebel fleet.

The resulting display was far worse then she could have possibly
imagined.

"Mother of the First Ones…"

Earlier, the fight had been on the verge of catastrophe. Now it
was a complete disaster. The Rebels were down to barely three-quarters
of the capital ships that they'd brought into the system, and their
losses among the fighters and escorts had been even worse. Even
now, most of the surviving ships were being driven into a last-ditch
defensive cluster that would last only as long as their remaining
fighters could keep the swarms of Fang Interceptors off their flanks.

Even as she watched, fresh scarlet icons appeared on the monitor
as yet another pair of dreadnoughts jumped into the system to join
the sixty already hammering away at the Rebel fleet.

That was bad enough. Aside from the flagship, the heaviest unit
class they'd brought were only battleships, and they only had forty
of them left now. But the Imps also had a solid wedge of
five superdreadnoughts, supported by a full screen of lighter units.
The Rebels didn't have anything that could possibly stop them.

It wasn't possible— it went against every existing Imperial
doctrine— but they bastards had finally done it. The Empire
had finally integrated their heaviest ships of the Wall with the
rest of the Imperial Fleet.

Always before, the reigning emperors had been too paranoid about
putting that kind of firepower in any admiral's hands, but
the new Emperor had somehow found a flag officer they could rely
on. And those five ships were the hammer that was going to smash
the Rebels against the anvil of the dreadnoughts and the rest of
the Imperial fleet.

"All ships, this is the Flag. Prepare to withdraw from the
system."

With a sense of numb horror, Ayla realized that the only chance
the Fleet now had was to try and outrun the trap before it closed
shut around them. And the only way they could do it was for the
more expendable ships to drop back and play rearguard in order to
buy the slower capital units the time they needed to break off and
clear the hyperlimit.(4)

"Carriers and transports are first priority. All other remaining
units fall back to hold off the enemy."

Even as Admiral Iblis' orders went out, a small part of Ayla's
mind idly wondered how many of them were going to survive the coming
gauntlet.

-Busted

Ranma gingerly held the intelligent sword at arm's length.

[R-A-N-M-A ! ! !]

The martial artist cringed on the roof he was currently perched
on.

Ishtar was PISSED!

He would rather fight hordes of bloodthirsty monsters any day then
have to face the goddess's spirit when she was angry. Less pain
and suffering that way.

{Er… would it help if I said I'm sorry?}

[NO!!]

{Oh.}

So much for that idea.

[DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS?! I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE DIED!!!}

At times like this Ranma wished that the bond between himself and
the rune weapon was not so intense. He could literally experience
her honest concern, the fear and anguish that her outraged front
hid, and it made him feel even worse. Worse, he knew that she knew
that he was picking up her emotions.

Guilt was not something that Ranma knew how to deal with very well.
{Ishtar.}

So he did the very first thing that came to mind.

[What are you doing?!]

He expanded the link between them, embracing her with his presence.
The thin line between his consciousness and hers blurred and through
their connection he tried to reassure her at the most basic level.

[Ran— ma?!] The sudden unexpectedness of it caught her off
guard. Ishtar was swept away in the sudden influx of her owner's
innermost thoughts and feelings.

Normally it was only while he slept that Ranma revealed this side
of himself to her. Even in battle he reserved something back when
they joined together to fight. For some reason that not even Ishtar
had been able to figure out during their partnership, Ranma seemed
to always be trying to keep a part of himself at a distance emotionally
from other people. She suspected that it had something to do with
that strange mental block deep within his mind. It bothered her
that there seemed to be a gap in his memories, an empty hole from
shortly before they had met that she suspected might hold the answers
to her dear but often confusing CosmoKnight. But Ranma had always
avoided the subject whenever she'd brought it up, and although she
was curious, she would never attempt to violate his consciousness
by trying to find out without his permission.

And yet now he was letting her inside of him, letting her feel
his genuine remorse and his reaffirmation of the promise he had
made with Ishtar.

[{Together. The bond that marked them both. She was his and he
was hers. Always touching, never apart. Yin to Yang, an elemental
joining that only death could sever.}]

She clung to his mental presence with a strength born of uncounted
millennia of loneliness, seizing the comfort and reassurance his
soul offered and almost crying with relief that he was really here,
that she wasn't alone again.

{Ah?! Ahh!! Please don't cry! Ack!} For Ranma, the sensations coming
from the sword were practically the same thing as if she'd actually
started crying in his arms. And if there was one thing that really
sent him into a panic, a crying female was it.

[Dummy. You big dummy.]

She couldn't seem to stop herself; the relief after that long awful
suspense of not knowing was too great. Her bottled up emotions needed
release, and so Ishtar wept tears of thought while her owner awkwardly
held her and absorbed the tempest of her feelings as they swept
through him.

Ranma's sense of time faded as he rode out the storm, but he eventually
sensed a shift in the turbulence of his partner's spirit. {Ah…Are
you all right now?}

The rune weapon glowed softly. [Just hold me a little while longer.]

{Okay.}

To be continued.

Author's notes:

1) -dono: an honorific attached to the end of a person's name similar
to -san and -chan. But it is more formal and indicative of considerable
respect, also used a lot by a certain redheaded rurouni… :P

2) EMP: Electromagnetic Pulse; a burst of electromagnetic energy
normally produced by a nuclear reaction that is infamous for frying
electronic circuits.

3) Fighter Capital Assault Missile (FCAM): Big missiles equipped
with heavy antimatter warheads, the preferred weapon of choice for
fighters to use against larger warships. The main problem with them
is that their size limits the amount that can be carried by the
fighter, 2-6 is a standard payload. Not effective against small
targets like fighters or power armor.

4) Hyperlimit: The gravitational boundary surrounding a planet/star
within which no ship can go into hyperspace (faster then light).
Attempting to do so is a fast way to commit suicide, since FTL drives
tend to blow up when used inside the hyperlimit. Ships also tend
to lose against planetary bodies when they collide since planets
and stars are bigger and more massive then they are. Size does
matter. :P